


Daring Desires

by MrsDurden420



Category: Once Upon A Time In Hollywood (2019)
Genre: 1969, Affairs, Blow Jobs, Blow Jobs in a Car, Car Sex, Cuddling, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Gen, Hand Jobs, Het, Hollywood, Lemon, Love, Oral Sex, Romance, Secret Relationship, Sex, Sexual Content, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-17
Updated: 2020-03-17
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:08:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23183779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrsDurden420/pseuds/MrsDurden420
Summary: A trilogy of one-shots depicting a secret relationship between Rick Dalton and Sharon Tate from Quentin Tarantino's  "Once Upon a Time in Hollywood."
Relationships: Rick Dalton/Sharon Tate
Comments: 2
Kudos: 28





	Daring Desires

•Cielo Drive- Hollywood, 1969.

A sudden ring of the telephone jolts Rick awake in his bed.

“Hello, Rick?” The voice hesitant, whispery.

“Sharon?”

“Well, who do you think it is? Francesca Capucci?”

“You’re a nasty bitch.” Rick smiled.

“And you’re still with her, you poor dumb fuck, aren’t you.”

Fully awake now, he laughed mordantly. “Yeah, I am.”

“Rick?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry. I love you.”

“I love you, too. Are you in New York with the Gefsky’s or whatever the fuck their name is?” Rick looked around for cigarettes and a lighter, without success.

“Sharon giggled, as if swallowing laughter, and said, “Anti-Semite. You mean the Ransohoff’s, and I’m not staying with them anymore, except to visit and do business. I’m living in Hollywood now—like you told me to, remember? I’m still trying to move to that house next door to you but right now I’m staying at Roxbury Drive. Pretty flashy, huh? But that’s not where I am this very minute.”

“Sharon…”

“I’m close to Ceilo right now, and I’ve got news and I want to see you.” She sounded out of breath, but that was just another one of her signatures.

“Shit, Sharon. What time is it? I’ve got to get up at nine. And I’ve got to be awake enough so as not to forget every fuckin’ line. And—”

The phone was suddenly dead.

Sharon Tate was gone.

Rick should have known better. But it was—he got up and flicked on the light switch— nine o’clock at night. Not too late for Rick when he had to be on set the next morning; he’d often hang out at this hour with Cliff Booth, his stuntman who was also Rick’s best friend. They’d go to Googie’s or Schwab’s on Sunset, which were the only places in L.A. open at late night, or he’d drink whiskey sours floating in his pool alone…or talk through the night to Sharon, who would call whenever she felt the need.

The lights hurt Rick’s eyes, and although he hadn’t been drinking any whiskey sours this night or doing any drugs, he felt hungover.

He found a pack of Cliff’s Red Apple cigarettes on the kitchen counter, and although he hated them, he really needed a fucking cigarette.

As he sat on the loveseat in the living room and smoked in silence, he went over his lines for tomorrow in his head.

The phone rang again, snapping Rick out of his thoughts. He picked up the receiver.

“Hi.” Sharon said. “Are you ready to go out with me?”

He laughed. “Why’d you hang up on me?”

“Because you were treating me bad. I’ve changed. The new me doesn’t take shit from _anybody_ , not even from the person I love more than-“

“More than who?”

“Anybody.”

“More than Roman Polanski?” he teased.

She laughed. “Yes, but you’d better see me now because who knows what could happen later.”

“You’re married, remember?” Rick said.

“But not for long, honey.” There was a long pause and then Sharon said “No, not for long.” The sadness was obvious in her voice. “Well, do you want me to hang up again, or what?”

“No.”

“Are you coming to see me then? Please, Rick, I don’t want to be alone right now. I’ll come over to you.” Then, changing her mood again, “And who knows, we might both get lucky.” she whispered almost too seductively for Rick to handle.

Sudden images of Sharon naked, moaning Rick’s name under him as he thrusts hard into her body, fill Rick’s mind... her bright blue eyes staring up at him as she goes down-

“Hello? Earth to Rick?”

“What? Um yea, yea I’m here.”

Sharon chuckles. “Anyway, I’ll show you my new car. It’s a gift. And it’s beautiful!”

“From who?”

“I got it for doing a show with Norman Jewison. It’s a Caddy DeVille convertible, and it’s as pink as your cute little ass. I love it.” She giggled and blew into the phone. “I’ll give you a ride in it, but you’ve got to make up your mind right now, or I’m hanging up. One…two…”

“Okay,” Rick said. “But how the hell am I supposed to drive to Salinas tomorrow?”

“I’ll bring you some pills.”

“I can’t drive stoned-out. You want to kill me?”

“No, Rick.”

He knew she was laughing at him. “I’d show you my new Chrysler, but it’s at the mechanic’s. I can pick you up with my porsche. Where are you?”

“No, I want to drive,” she said. “I’ll be at your place in fifteen minutes. I’ve got something to tell you that you won’t believe. You’re at your house right now right?”

“Yea.”

“Ok, Rick. I’ll see you seen you soon, bye.”

“I can’t stay out long.” But Rick was speaking to dead air.

-

Although he couldn’t be sure when or if Sharon would even arrive, Rick waited outside his house near the driveway for her. He wore jeans, a white T-shirt, scuffed brown leather cowboy boots, and his brown leather jacket.

Sharon drove into the gravel driveway. The top of the pink Cadillac was down. She smiled at him but looked tentative, as if frightened that he wouldn’t recognize her or, worse yet, that he _would_ recognize her and turn away. She didn’t look like Sharon Tate. That was the guise that she turned on and off like a lightbulb. Rick understood all about that. They were both monsters that could turn into…themselves. And when they turned themselves on to each other, it was like driving fast, except it was in the eyes _and_ the crotch. She wore tan slacks, a man’s sweater that was several sizes too large for her, and a black kerchief tied around her head. If it were daytime, she’d be wearing sunglasses—all part of the uniform of a private person. She wouldn’t be wearing makeup either.

“Well, it’s certainly…pink,” Rick chuckles as he moved toward the driver’s-side door. “You mind if I drive?”

“Yes I do. I’m driving.” Sharon leaned toward him for a kiss.

Rick bent his head down and gently gripped her head with both his hands and pressed his lips to hers in a chaste kiss. He missed this. He missed her.

He pulled back. “But I have something to show you. Give you a kick like nothing else.”

“You drive like a maniac, Rick. You scare me.”

“You drive any differently?”

“I may be as crazy as you , but this is my car. If anyone’s going to mess it up, it’s going to be me. Now get in.”

Rick put on his pout face and sat down beside her. She smelled strongly of perfume. Dana Tabu, her favorite.

“You wanna come inside and see my house?” Rick asked.

“No, I want to drive.” And with that she shifted the car into reverse and stomped on the accelerator. Tires spun in the gravel as the Caddy fishtailed backward into the street. Rick was thrown against the dashboard. Sharon changed gears and laid rubber as she accelerated down the hill.

“Damn it Sharon, you’re high as a goddamn kite!” Rick yells. “You didn’t even look to see if anyone was coming, and you almost put my head through the windshield!”

Sharon giggled as she crossed over the double yellow line. “I love these wind-y roads, except it’s so easy to get lost.”

She raced around and down north until she reached Benedict Canyon Drive; then she turned onto the wide, straight road and accelerated until the car began to shake.

“Need to get your front end fixed.” Rick said.

Sharon laughed and slowed down to eighty. There were few cars on the drive. She untied her kerchief, and her blond hair was swept back by the wind.

“So what’s your news?” Rick asked. “Word is that Fox is going to give you a million a picture.”

“And I’m going to have director approval, too. Fox isn’t going to stick it to me again, I’ll tell you that.”

“We should start a company to make films. I could be the best director you ever saw. Marvin Schwarz thinks so, and he’s the one of the best agents in Hollywood right now.”

“You think the sun sets in his ass.” Sharon said.

“Well, he hasn’t done bad for me. These spaghetti westerns are going to be _big_ hits.”

“I hope so. I pray they’ll be a smash.”

“So it’s true about the money?”

She raised her head, exaggeratedly sniffing the air, and said, “My friend Mr. Jack Palance, thank you, is negotiating everything. We’ll see what happens.”

“So, it _is_ true...” Rick laughed and moved closer to her, putting his arm around her.

Rick stares at her face for a while before lowering his eyes. He starts to run his fingers over her sweater and play with her breasts. Sharon didn’t seem to notice, although her nipples became erect. “I love these.” He says.

“You could fool me. You’re squeezing them like you’re trying to make mud pies.”

Rick stops touching her and stares ahead. His light brown hair, which was greasy and needed a wash, was tousled, and his eyes narrowed as they always did when he was concentrating. He starts to bite his lower lip. It was a nervous habit.

“Go ahead, you can make mud pies.” Sharon notices him.

“I never did that to Francesca.”

“You never squeezed her tits?”

“She didn’t like it, maybe because they’re tiny.”

“So what did you do?”

“We just fucked.”

“That’s it?”

“Cuddled.”

“You want to cuddle me?” Sharon asked.

“Yeah.”

“I’ll stop right here, we can do it right here. If we get caught, tell me that wouldn’t make good gossip.”

“Wait, I want to talk for a little while.” Rick said, sounding childlike. “And I want to drive.”

“What do I get if I let you drive?”

“A cuddle and a ting-a-ling.”

“A what?”

“You got to let me drive to find out.”

“Okay. You drive.” With that Sharon slid onto Rick’s lap and let go of the steering wheel. Rick grabbed it and quickly pulled himself into the driver’s seat.

“Jesus H. Christ!”

Sharon giggled and let her hand rest on his crotch as he drove. She scolded him when he didn’t get an erection.

He quickly glanced down at her hand and back to her face and laughed. “I can’t do two things at once.”

She smirked at him. “Oh, really? What if I do this?” And she slid across the leather seat so she could put her head on his lap. She bit him gently through the stiff denim of his jeans until he became hard.

“Mmmm...” Rick bit his lip.

“Well, _that_ seemed to work.” she giggled. She unzipped his fly and carefully worked his penis out of his briefs and teased him with her tongue, twirling the tip of his shaft in very slow circular motions.

“Uhh..mmm! You really do have a death wish, don’t you?” Rick groaned.

“If you say so. Do you want me to stop?”

Rick’s knuckles are turning pale white as he gripped the steering wheel.

“You probably should.”

“Just think of it as a cuddle. My treat. When it comes to you, I’m a pro, aren’t I?”

Rick laughed at that.

“Well?” Sharon asked.

“Yes.” Rick said.

“And do you want me to stop now?”

“No.” He gave in to the warm, wet bliss.

“Well, then you better say please or I’ll stop.”

“You’re a bitch, Sharon, do you know that?”

“Say please. I’m going to count to three. One…two…”

“Okay, okay, please.”

“Nope, too late.” she gave his penis one last kiss and sat up and smiled at him.

“Too late, is it?” I said, stepping hard on the accelerator. “I guess it’s time to teach you a lesson.”

Sharon giggled. “Better put that thing back in your pants first.”

Rick grinned at her, adjusted himself, zipped up his fly, and said, “This ain’t finished yet.”

“Well, I would hope not. I expect to get some satisfaction for my persistence, and just remember you said please.”

Rick turned off the headlights. “It’s going to be _you_ saying please very soon now.”

“Turn the lights on, Rick. What are you trying to prove?”

“See those taillights up ahead? Must be a big Buick or maybe a Caddy like this one. Well, this is going to be like one Caddy kissing another. We’ll just give his bumper a little kiss, a sweet little kiss, maybe something like you kissing my dick.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Sharon asked. “Shit you really are as crazy as everybody says.” But rather than fear, there was an edge of excitement in her voice. “Now turn the lights back on and let up on the gas. I’m telling you right now, if you mess this car up, I’ll take a tire iron to that new Christler of yours.”

Rick laughed. “It’s a Chrysler, and you’d have to find it first.” After a beat, he said, “Okay, now let’s see what this pig can do.” He put the Caddy into overdrive, and the red taillights ahead seemed to be rushing toward them. “The dumb bastard doesn’t even know we’re driving right up his ass.”

“Goddammit, Rick, slow down!” Sharon shouted, reaching for the steering wheel.”

Rick knocked her hand away; his knuckles were white on the steering wheel again. The speedometer read ninety. “You can scream, but don’t touch.”

Sharon rolled up her window, as if that would protect her.

“No, roll it down,” Rick said. “You got to be right there to hear it.” The wind roared in his ears, a wonderful whistling whine, and Sharon screamed as he drove her Cadillac into the ghostly white Lincoln Continental ahead. But it was indeed just a kiss, as bumper clanged against bumper—one bell-like note and a glimpse of a terrified woman wearing a chic red hat—and then Rick was pulling ahead of the Lincoln as the horn of an oncoming car blared and headlights rushed toward them. Rick veered back into the right hand lane just in time. Sharon screamed again.

“Did you hear it?” Rick asked. “Ting-a-fucking-ling.”

“Stop the car.” Sharon said.

“It didn’t do no damage. It was just a kiss, sweet as a bell.”

“Pull the car over right now, and put the lights on before somebody back-ends us or something.”

“There’s nobody else on the road.”

“Rick!”

“Nobody else in the world.” But he pulled over to the curb and turned off the engine. “ The Crystal Ship” played softly on the radio, cicadas roared in the bushes, and the distant yet pervasive thrum of the road and city was felt rather than heard. The sky was black and smeary gray; here and there a star was visible through the clouds or smog.

“Did you hear the ting-a-ling?” Rick asked. His voice was low, childlike.

“Yes.”

“I told you it would be a kick. You want to check the bumper?”

“No.” Then, “I’m still shaking.”

“Yeah, so am I.”

“Rick Dalton, you could have killed us!” Sharon yelled annoyed with his calm tone.

“Yeah, that’s the idea, ain’t it?”

“You could have killed that poor woman in the other car. She doesn’t deserve that.”

“How do you know what she deserves? Or who she might have just screwed over? What happens happens. You can’t change it.”

“So you couldn’t help but drive into her car, right?”

“Yeah, in a way, I guess,” Rick said. “Just like you couldn’t help calling me up in the middle of the night and coming over to my house.”

“Rick, hold me.”

Rick turned to her and pulled her to sit on top of his lap with both her knees on either side of his thighs. He took her sweater off and ran his hands softly up and down her back. Sharon started grinding herself hard against his crotch while kissing his forehead all over.

Rick couldn’t take it anymore and pulled Sharon’s shirt over her head and she isn’t wearing a bra. He took one rosy nipple in his mouth, pulling and sucking, breathing in her scent. Sharon moaned loudly, grabbing his hair as he moved his mouth to the other one.

“Oh Rick...” Sharon gasped as she reached for the hem of his shirt and Rick lifted his arms up so she could pull it off easy. Her nails dragged up and down his sides and she started to kiss and lick his chest up and down, making Rick’s whole body jerk. He pulled her mouth up to his and kissed her passionately. She moved her hands to his crotch to unbutton his jeans and pulled out his dick, wet and hard with anticipation.

“Uh...Sharon...” Rick mumbled against her mouth as she jerked him off in a slow pace. His eyes squeeze shut and he felt her smile against his lips.  
Rick opened his eyes again and found Sharon’s ocean blue eyes staring back at him.

“Sharon, I need you, now.” Rick desperately told her without breaking eye contact. Sharon grinned and stood directly from his lap to pull her slacks off and Rick quickly pulled his jeans all the way down to his ankles. She came back down to sit on his lap and grabbed his dick to guide it into her entrance.

“Mmmm...” They both gasped as Rick entered her. Rick sealed his mouth to hers, swallowing the sounds of their hot panting and moans, as he wrapped both his arms around her back and thrusted up into her harder and faster. Her nails dug into Rick’s shoulders and back. She pulled her mouth from his to nibble on his ear and kiss and lick his neck...

-

When they were finished, they moved to the backseat of the car and Rick gathered Sharon in his arms as she began to cry.

“That bad, huh?” Rick asked.

Sharon smiled. “Yeah, Rick, you were terrible.”

After a pause, Rick asked, “What’s the matter, then?”

“I don’t know. Oh, fuck it, yes, I do. It’s Roman. He drives a Cadillac. A blue one.”

“So?”

“So…being here, doing this…made me think about him a little.”

“Have you seen him since you’ve been here?”  
Rick knew Roman Polanski and didn’t like him. Sharon’s husband was so overcome with jealousy that he followed Sharon around like a store detective; and Rick thought that he looked like a skinny, short, upchuck store detective punk with his big, narrow nose, greasy hair, and ill-fitting though expensive suits.

“No. I was going to call him, but I called you instead.”

“He’s a little prick, Sharon. How many times has he kicked the shit out of you?”

“It wasn’t so bad, Rick. Maybe a slap, that’d be it. Not what you think. He’d just get crazy, and then he’d be beside himself with guilt, and he’d be crying and begging me to forgive him, and buying me every goddamn thing he could think of. I could’ve opened up a flower shop every time we had a fight.”

“That’s not what you used to tell me.”

“Well, I was upset. I needed somebody to talk to…someone I could talk to.”

“So you were bullshittin’ me all the while, right?”

She sighed and twisted herself away from him a little. “No, Rick, I wasn’t bullshitting you. You just don’t understand.”

“What don’t I understand?”

“That Roman loves me.”

“I love you.”

She giggled, combed her fingers through his hair, and looked back up at Rick. “You love to make mud pies.”

“No, I mean it.” Rick looked down at her seriously and bent his head down to give her a chaste kiss.

“I know you do, Rick. But you know what I mean; it’s different with Roman. He loves me before himself. You and me…I don’t know. No matter what we do, it’s different somehow. Roman loves me more than his career.”

“Yea sure, that’s why he wants you to give up _your_ career, right.”

“I’m divorcing him, isn’t that enough? But I just can’t be cruel to him. I can’t do that.”

Sharon got up from Rick’s lap and sat in the drivers seat. Rick took his spot in the passengers seat.

“You wanna come back to my place?” Rick asked.

“Yes, but _I’ll_ drive.” Sharon turned the car around and sped back towards Benedict Canyon Drive.

They drove for a while in silence before Rick asked her. “So what’s your news that you wanted to tell me?”

Sharon turned onto Cielo Drive. It would be dawn soon, and she looked pale and worn and fragile in the dim, ambient streetlight. Her hair was frizzed by the wind. She stared ahead and drove slowly up the winding road, as if she didn’t hear what Rick said and wanted the ride to last as long as possible.

“Did you have a fight with Polanski? Is that what this is all about?” Rick tried again.

“No, it’s about my life and not getting anything right.”

“What would make it right?”

Sharon laughed and said, “If I knew that I wouldn’t be here. If Roman had made the effort, maybe he would of always had me. Or maybe someone who could love me and fully understand me.”

“Why not me?”

“Because I’ll always have you, Rick, just like you’ll always have me.”

Her timing was perfect. She drove into his driveway and kissed him good night.

“I thought you were coming in?” Rick said.

“No, you have to be on set in the morning, remember.”

“Well, where are you staying tomorrow? I’ll call you when I get back.”

She gave him her generous lightbulb Sharon smile and backed the car out of the driveway. “Maybe I’ll call you.”


End file.
